


If I Could Steal One Final Glance

by AI07



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types, mortal kombat x
Genre: Angst, Daddy Issues, Drama, Father's Day, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Headcanon, I Made Myself Cry, If Cassie Jacqui And Takeda Can Get These Stories Then Erron Deserves One Too, Kenshi is the best father ever, Luther Vandross - Dance With My Father, Poor Erron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 12:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4179813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AI07/pseuds/AI07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To all eyes, Erron Black is a soulless, heartless mercenary with only money on his mind and who could care less about other human beings.</p><p>But that's not entirely true. There was one person he truly did care about and who, in his eyes, meant the world to him.</p><p>Too bad Erron never got the opportunity to look him in the eye again before he departed for the next life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Could Steal One Final Glance

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Father's Day! :D So I decided to write a fanfic starring everyone's favourite Outworld cowboy.
> 
> I don't own the MK franchise - that belongs to Ed Boon, John Tobias and Netherrealm Studios. The song "Dance With My Father" belongs to Luther Vandross. Hope you enjoy! :)

He can’t remember the colour of his eyes.

He can remember the colouring of his face, once ruddy from the joys of life and all of a sudden parchment-pale … the straight nose that would occasionally bump against his forehead when he was young enough to receive goodnight kisses and all of a sudden just sticking straight up from that still countenance, a translucent hook … the sandy-blonde hair – true, bordering on grey, yet still bespoke of the youth that was left in him but was suddenly taken away …

But the colour of his eyes, the orbs lined by years of wisdom and an even longer time of enduring hardships, responsibility and the actions of three little wild boys, the youngest whom he never managed to see, with those eyes, outlive them all by more than 100 years …

Those eyes, no doubt filled with pain on the night he was taken away from them.

_From me._

Those eyes, closed as if its owner was asleep.

_Mama said I looked a lot like him …_

In all of the years of his life, in every moment – every _second_ – he forced himself to stare into the eyes of his victims, memorising the colours swirling around in their orbs so that at least someone – namely himself – could say that they remembered what they looked like …

… it hurt him to know that he could not remember the colour of his own father’s eyes.

* * *

The back of Erron Black’s head knocked painfully against the bark of the tree, the clasp of his mask digging into his skull. He wanted to grunt out in pain, but he knew very well that the cry lingering at the back of his throat would take its place. Instead, biting down hard on his bottom lip, the gun-slinger’s hand flew behind his head, unclasped the mask and, peeling it off, threw it into his lap with the fury of a child in the throes of a temper-tantrum.

Indeed, in that moment, he felt like the most miserable little kid in the world. Drawing his legs up to his chest and pressing his exposed face against his leather-padded knees, shutting his eyes tight in response to the heat of liquid beginning to pool in them, the mercenary drew in a shaky breath and exhaled likewise.

_The hell is wrong with me …?_

Feeling the wet heat building even more to the point that he could feel a droplet soaking through his trousers, Erron dug his fingers into the coarse material of his pant-legs, though the action, along with his desperate attempts to control his breathing, did little to soothe his mind.

_Not after what just happened … damn it, Black, you ass, why did you do that?_

But then, he already knew the answer.

_That song … that forsaken song …_

_“Never dreamed that he would be gone from me …”_

His fingers dug in deeper, his nails scratching the skin underneath. Twinges of pain blossomed beneath his fingertips, the affected areas turning rosy-red. If those fidgety digits were to dig in even more, the rose-red colour would spill out from beneath the surface of his skin, along with the tears that threatened to fall from the former Earthrealmer’s eyes.

But Erron’s fingers stilled suddenly when he heard the voices below. The chartreuse-green canopy of leaves shrouded his vision of the ground below, but he could hear the voices of what sounded like two people sounding from the bottom of, or – worryingly – at least right next to, the tree in which he sat. Lifting his head from his knees, which were stained with his black camouflage make-up, Erron began to listen.

“Have you found him yet?” The deep, sonorous timbre of his employer. Erron could imagine those luminescent-blue eyes to be narrowed not out of anger, but out of surprise and perhaps some concern.

“Not yet.” The calm, authoritative tone of the Special Forces general, her sharp baby-blues betraying an inkling of bewilderment, no doubt. “I’m sure he hasn’t gone beyond the Special Forces perimeter. I’ve notified my officers to radio me if they find him. Sergeant Cage and her team are also on the lookout, along with your personnel.”

A sigh. “They do not mind, your daughter and her friends? After all, Erron lashed out at them before storming out in … the way that he did.”

A pause. “For reasons I do not yet know.”

Erron felt his fingers beginning to tremble, and the heat had returned to his eyes.

_Not a sound, Black … not a peep …_

It was the general’s turn to sigh. Her voice attained a softness unfamiliar to the gun-slinger’s ears as she spoke: “Cassie said it was all so sudden. It wasn’t long after I escorted you to speak with Colonel Flagg: Johnny and Kenshi decided to give your enforcers a tour in the meantime with Cassie’s lot tagging along.

“It was going well enough until they hit one of the recreation centres, which our officers use in their spare time. Cassie told me that a couple of them were there, listening to the radio when … Black kind of froze.”

“ _Froze_?”

“Yes. Went still and silent, as if he went into a catatonic state.”

“By the Elder Gods …” the emperor breathed, sounding absolutely stunned.

“Cassie and her team tried to find out if he was okay,” the general continued, “because it seemed unusual to them that he was struck dumb – not that he’s one to talk in the first place, so I’ve been told. He didn’t answer them when they questioned him; he just stood there, unresponsive. He only reacted, albeit in an extremely violent manner, when they touched him.”

“And that is when he fled, correct?”

Erron’s head dipped low, the trembling increasing by ten-fold.  
  
“Right, Emperor,” affirmed the general. “Ran off before anyone could stop him.”

“I am truly sorry for this, General Blade,” the Outworld cowboy’s employer murmured. “I did not intend for our visit to end up becoming a search-party for my missing enforcer.”

The general might have nodded, or shrugged, or even smiled, Erron could only imagine, in the short pause that occurred before she answered the Osk-Tekk warrior. “I understand, and so do my daughter and her friends. Kinda reminds of the times when Cassie was a kid. She used to run off in a flying fit whenever she got upset.”

“I hardly dare to compare my employee to a child, General Blade.”

“Better than comparing him to an escaping felon.”

A small chuckle. “Though the way Cassie carried on, you’d have thought I was going to put her prison or something. She would always run to Johnny whenever she needed to be rescued. She was, and continues to be, Daddy’s little girl.”

_Daddy’s … little …_

Erron’s eyes immediately shut tight at that, his mouth contorting into a flurry of shapes as a cry began to claw its way up his throat, desiring to be let out. The hot tears were burning his eyelids, like a fire licking at the edges of a forest, threatening the trees to fall …

_“Never dreamed that he would be gone from me …”_

_Mama said I looked a lot like him …_

A tear, stained with the black pigment of his camouflage, ran down his ruddy-coloured cheek.

“General Blade. Kotal Kahn.”

Through the grief that had enveloped him in a self-pitying cloud, Erron Black heard the low, serene voice of the blind swordsman, whose eyes he had never seen due to the red blindfold that he sported. He could not imagine at what angle they were slanted or raised or just plained positioned or what emotion, if any, they expressed beneath the crimson fabric. Yet, as he heard it whispered among his kinsman as well as from Ermac, who had similar powers, the swordsman did not necessarily need the senses of his deadened eyes to see, relying on the telepathic abilities that he had honed over the years to go about his daily life and to defend himself in kombat.

A surge of panic welled in the cowboy’s already-aching chest – he was like his whip-bearing son. Surely that meant he could use his abilities to sense his presence? To read his thoughts?

Erron stiffened.

_Hell no …_

“Kenshi, any word on Black?”

“As a matter of fact, I know where he is.”

Erron swallowed.  
  
_No, no, no …_

“You do?” the emperor exclaimed, his and the general’s orbs widening in surprise and relief. “That is excellent news. Please tell me where he is located so that I may talk to him at once.”

_No, please **no** …_

A small pause, seemingly a decade for Erron as he waited for the Sword of Damocles to come down on him …

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information, Emperor.”

“I beg your pardon?”

A thought along the same lines of his employer’s question exploded in Erron’s mind at the same time:

_What?_

“Kenshi, if you know where Black is, then why won’t you tell us?” asked the general, her tone as sharp as her namesake.

“With all due respect, ma'am,” the swordsman answered, “he would prefer to be left alone to his thoughts.”

“How do you know this?” cut in the Osh-Tekk warrior. “Take me to Erron immediately. I wish to see the state of mind that he is in.”

“Kotal Kahn, please understand, Mr Black needs his privacy right now,” the blind Earthrealmer replied, as if undeterred by the other being’s bark-like interruption. “Rather leave him be than to aggravate him even further.”

He paused. “Especially when it concerns personal matters.”

“Personal matters, Takahashi?”

“Of a … _familial_ kind,” was the response. “Do you understand _now_ , Emperor?”

Erron heard the sharp intake of breath, followed by the brief lapse of silence, before the emperor spoke again, albeit in a quiet murmur: “Yes, I understand.”

“As I hoped,” the swordsman muttered under his breath before addressing the general, who was most likely bemused by the men’s exchange. “I suggest we call off the search, General. Mr Black will emerge when he’s good and ready.”

And then there were words no more as the sound of footsteps was heard before fading into the distance.

Breathing slowly now, Erron Black tipped his head back, resting it against the bark with a shaky sigh. He rubbed his face with both hands, the salty, wet camouflage imprinted into his palms like pads on a dog’s paws. The sunlight penetrated the leafy canopy, colouring his tanned skin an emerald-green hue … lighting his blue soul with a golden spark of hope. He no longer felt the need to dig his fingers into his pant-legs, under which the skin was beginning to turn a dastardly shade of purple. Instead, he reached for his brown face-mask and, whilst holding it firmly in his hands, momentarily closed his eyes.

Eyes that were no longer filled with pain.

Eyes that wished for so long to steal a final glance at the only man he ever loved …

* * *

Erron Black climbed down from the tree and made his way back to the main building. He only stopped to wash his face at a tap and when he entered the building through the back way – the Outworld cowboy passed by the door of the recreation centre, and he paused in his step when he caught the snatches of the song that had sent him running out of there in the first place being played again:

 _When I and my mother would disagree_  
_To get my way I would run from her to him_  
 _He’d make me laugh just to comfort me, yeah yeah_  
 _Then finally make me do just what my mama said_  
 _Later that night when I was asleep, he left a dollar under my sheet_  
 _Never dreamed that he would be gone from me_

 _If I could steal one final glance, one final step,_  
_One final dance with him_  
 _I’d play a song that would never ever end_  
 _‘Cause I’d love, love, love … to dance with my father again …_

The gun-slinger felt the ice creeping into his heart like it did earlier, which had left him in that so-called catatonic state for all to see, but this time around he shut the icicles out before he could freeze once more.

_I’m not gonna let it happen to me again. I **can’t**._

Erron flounced away from the recreation centre as fast as his legs could carry him.

How surprised the general, the emperor, his comrades, Cage and those kids looked – save for the blind swordsman – when they saw him enter the office, wearing a blank expression behind his mask. They exchanged unnerved glances, not knowing what to say in front of the man who had caused them to run all over the place looking for him.

After a long, lengthy pause, his employer finally stepped forward and said, “Erron, are you alright?”

The former Earthrealmer merely nodded. His eyes wandered to the swordsman, whose blindfold – if not the dullness of his orbs – concealed his emotions; his mouth, on the other hand, were curled at the edges into what seemed like a small smile. In that second, the mercenary wondered what colour they were.

 _They’re anything you want them to be_ , rang a low, serene voice in the back of his head. _They may have no use to me, but I do not dwell on my grievance, nor do I let my past grievances overcome me. It’s what I make of my life now that matters._

The voice had gone as soon as it come, and a surprised Erron had to wonder if he had imagined the swordsman speaking in his head, although the man betrayed no indication of having communicating with him.

Nodding to himself, the Osh-Tekk warrior turned to the general, saying, “Thank you for having us and for aiding us today. If we may, we shall take our leave.”

He and the older Earthrealmers exchanged pleasantries and promises of meeting again in more suitable circumstances and, after bidding the younger ones farewell, the emperor gestured to Erron and his comrades to start making their way out.

As Erron turned his back on the Earthrealmers, he heard the sassy-mouth Shaolin monk whisper, “Guys, did you see that Raccoon-face didn’t look like a raccoon? I mean, he looks weird without that make-up stuff on – and his eyes are all big and blue.”

Without warning, the former Earthrealmer stopped and turned around, looking at the stunned young adults with his naked, azure-blue eyes, particularly at the Shaolin monk.

Then, after a few seconds of awkward silence, Erron Black drawled:

“Thanks, Junior. I’ve got my father’s eyes. Mama always said that I looked a lot like him. I’m quite proud of that fact.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I'm writing all these angsty things lately, especially on days like these. X3 But anyhoo, I hope you liked it. I'll definitely be writing more about Erron Black and his family in the future, you know, before he became Kotal Kahn's enforcer.
> 
> *~AI07~* :)


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